Rewind Boxed Set

by Rowan Shaw

  "Why would he break up with you?" I couldn't understand that at all. The guy had to be a complete moron to let go of a catch like Enzo.

  He whistled a loud sigh. "He likes younger men."

  "Younger than twenty-six?"

  "Well, twenty beats twenty-six, I guess. That, and he had some issues with me being deaf."

  I wrinkled my nose. "He couldn't sign? I assumed he was deaf, too."

  "Cyrille is a CODA, the Child of a Deaf Adult. He can sign because his mom is deaf. But he's never accepted our community."

  "I don't get it."

  "That makes two of us." He shrugged. "Cyrille went to a hearing school, where he was bullied by the other kids. But instead of seeing that as an issue the kids had, he thought it was his mom's fault for not getting an implant and trying to speak. Of course, he's ridiculous. His mom was deaf her whole life. How can he expect her to learn to talk after so long? And really, why should she?"

  "That's ridiculous!" I concurred and wondered why Enzo even bothered dating the douchebag.

  "I guess I'm much better off now that I’m rid of him," he signed, though he didn't seem convinced.

  I hated that he still missed his ex. I also hated the twinge of jealousy I felt because Enzo still missed his ex. I flipped the subject around to lighten the mood. "So do you top or bottom?"

  His entire face reddened. Fuck me! He was so damn cute.

  "Why are you asking?" he signed.

  "Just curious. Besides, I'd better know if we ever...you know."

  His grin widened. "You tell me first."

  "I'm verse."

  "Do you have a preference?"

  "I prefer to bottom," I signed.

  "Really?"

  "Well, don't sound so shocked," I laughed.

  "I'm not. It's just... I'm sure you're a great top, that's all."

  I didn't deny that. "And you?"

  "I prefer to bottom, definitely."

  "Mmm, it seems we got ourselves a situation, then."

  "I'm verse too, though," he added quickly.

  "Why do you prefer to bottom?"

  "I like feeling a man inside me. You?"

  "The prostate orgasms... Out of this world." I breathed deeply. The mere thought of that shot straight to my cock.

  "Do you prefer sex with men or women?" Enzo signed.

  "It doesn't compare."

  "Why not?"

  I thought about that carefully. It was difficult to explain those things to someone who wasn't bi. "Women are softer, for one. Their skin is smooth. They smell different. They're curvy. I have to be careful in bed with them. I can't just fuck them as hard as I'd do a guy. I mean, I can. Marlène and I were pretty wild in the sack. But I still try to restrain myself. And it takes a bit more work to make them come."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah."

  "But you like sleeping with them?"

  "Yeah... I mean, I'm bi, so yes, I like it."

  "So you prefer men or women?"

  "Once again, it doesn't compare. I'd say maybe men."

  "But you dated Marlène for a while, right? You didn't miss men?"

  Yes, of course I did. Even though I loved Marlène when we were together, I did miss men. A lot. But I'd made a choice to commit to her. I just wished she had told me we weren't exclusive after all.

  "Why do you prefer men?"

  "Because I love to bottom. Apart from Marlène, I've never dated any other girls. I did miss men, terribly. That's my curse as a bisexual."

  Enzo's questions distracted me so much I didn't notice his strategy until he took my flag from the board. I looked over my shoulder toward the kitchen door. "Do you want to play another game, or do you mind if we move to your living room?"

  "Sure. Let's move!" He stood and put the game away.

  I followed him out of the kitchen before we crashed on his couch, where he settled close to me, his body warm against mine.

  "So Marlène is the only woman you've been with?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  "Cyrille cheated on me too, you know? More than once. I knew he was cheating, but I never said anything. The last guy was the last straw, though. We fought and he said I was being ridiculous, that I was acting like we were married. Then he took his car keys and left. The next day, he broke up with me by text. He came for his things and we were done. Just like that. More than three years of dating scattered into the wind."

  "That's rough." What a fucking douchebag!

  "Let's play a game," Enzo suggested, pinning his dark gaze on mine.

  "Another one?"

  "Not a board game," he signed. "Let's see who has the worst ex."

  A chuckle rolled through my throat, but if this game made Enzo happy, I was all for it. It seemed like a good way to catch up.

  "The one who loses pays for dinner downtown."

  I flashed a cocky grin. "Like a date?"

  Enzo's cheeks flamed instantly. "I didn't say a date. Just dinner."

  "Okay." Who was he kidding? It was totally gonna be a date!

  "All right, I'll start." He seemed awfully ecstatic, almost fidgeting against me. "What's worse? Your partner cheating with your best friend or mine cheating with a bunch of random guys?"

  I let out a snort. What the hell was that game? "I don't know."

  Enzo raised both eyebrows. "Best friend, definitely."

  "One point for me, then?"

  Enzo beamed all the way to his eyes. "Who knows? You might win the pity meal after all."

  "Pity meal? You never said anything about pity."

  He laughed, and before I realized it, I got caught in the challenge. "My turn. When Marlène found out I was sterile, she said it was because I'm a queer."

  Enzo froze and stared at me. "You're sterile?"

  I nodded through a sad smile coupled with a shrug.

  "What is wrong with her?" Enzo used his voice this time. His timbre soothed me. He didn't speak often, but when he did, the familiarity of it comforted me.

  "Cyrille once forced me through a dry spell of two months," he signed. "He claimed he was tired. Turns out he was doing someone behind my back the entire time."

  That was hard to top, but I tried anyway. "Marlène wouldn't touch me after she found out I was sterile. She said I was defective and useless. What was the point of fucking me if I couldn't impregnate her? That dry spell lasted six months. Turns out she'd been fucking my best friend for four months before we even found out I couldn't procreate."

  "Okay, you win this one too." He looked around his living room for something. "I need paper. I feel like we should keep count."

  He was taking this game way too seriously. To me, it was just a way to get to know him better. There was so much about him I didn't know anymore.

  "You can keep track on your phone."

  He raised one finger. "Good idea." Then he reached in his pocket and turned the screen on before tapping a few things in and showing me the screen.

  Florian: Deux points.

  Enzo: Zéro point.

  His brown eyes locked on mine like he was challenging me. "Cyrille once broke my processor in a rage. We were arguing. He got mad I wouldn't put it on because that meant he couldn't yell at me, so he grabbed it from my nightstand table and threw it at the wall. He broke it apart, and I had to wait a while to receive a replacement."

  "Wow! Uh, Marlène broke some plates."

  "Ah, not even close," he exclaimed, seeming strangely elated that his terrible experience with his ex was gaining him points. "You lose this round."

  I shook my head. "I can't believe he did that, though. Why were you dating that worthless asshole again?"

  "I don't know. Why were you dating Marlène?" he asked, raising a cocky eyebrow.

  "Good point! Gosh, that guy's lucky I never met him. I would have knocked his teeth out."

  Enzo suppressed a smile. "That won't be necessary, but thanks."

  "What's the score?"

  Florian: Deux points.

  Enzo: Un point.
r />   "Your turn," I said.

  He scratched his head. "Cyrille always insisted we go to the UGC movie theater instead of the Cameo, even though UGC is all in French without subtitles while Cameo actually has subtitles. He didn't want to bother having the subtitles in the way. I know I can hear a lot of sounds, but it's easier for me if I can read subtitles. All the noise at the movies distracts me, and I can't hear all the words. Your turn!" he signed.

  I racked my brain for something worse than his ex. "I'm running out of things to say."

  "Is it a tie, then?"

  "Let me think of something."

  "Don't think too hard. It can't be that bad if you have to think about it."

  "Marlène made me sell all my furniture, move into her apartment, only to kick me out and leave me with nothing after she cheated on me."

  "Okay. You win this one."

  Florian: Trois points.

  Enzo: Un point.

  "I won?" I asked.

  "Let's go for one more," he signed.

  "It'll be hard for you to catch up."

  "We'll see."

  "Okay, give it your best."

  "One time, Cyrille wanted us to have a threesome with some other guy. Another random I didn't even know. But that time, he didn't even try to hide that he'd already been with the guy on and off for months. I said 'no' because I don't do hook-ups, and I didn't want to watch him with some other man. He left and was gone the entire night. He never told me where he was. He came back the next day as if nothing had happened."

  Wow! His words gutted me. "You stayed up all night alone at home knowing he was fucking someone else?"

  "Yes."

  "And you didn't tear his balls off when he returned?" I couldn't understand that. Enzo was way too sweet for his own good.

  "I pretended I'd fallen asleep. When he kissed me, I could taste the other guy's cum on his tongue."

  "What the fuck?!"

  Enzo shrugged like it was just some normal event in his fucked-up relationship with that douche. I felt my fist itch. I hated the guy, and I'd never even met him.

  "Cyrille was at the club. You know? The night you and I saw each other again."

  "He was?"

  "Yes."

  "Lucky him I didn't know about all this shit back then," I snarled, then signed, "Okay, you definitely win a point for that one."

  He tapped on his phone.

  Florian: Trois points.

  Enzo: Deux points.

  "We're almost tied," I signed. "You want to try another one?"

  "I think it's good enough. I'll treat you to dinner. You obviously need it more than I do," he laughed at me.

  "Thanks! I guess."

  He smiled broadly, his scar digging deeply into his cheek. He was so fucking beautiful, I wasn't sure how I'd survived without him for so long.

  "Where are you taking me?" I asked. "Which restaurant?"

  "You choose."

  I shook my head. I knew Enzo only ate vegetarian food. I had no idea where to find that stuff.

  "I'm not comfortable choosing how much you should spend. You choose the restaurant, but I put a limit at twenty-five euros a meal."

  "Per person? You're limiting my options."

  I looked at him pointedly.

  "Okay. Fine."

  Chapter 26

  ENZO

  "You ready?" Florian asked the following weekend.

  I searched my pockets for my wallet and keys. "Yeah, all good." I followed him out of my apartment, then down the street. "Where are we going? I thought I was the one who is supposed to take you out."

  He shot a mysterious grin my way. "I changed my mind."

  He didn't tell me where we were heading until we hit a certain street corner and I recognized the area.

  "Wait! You chose a vegetarian-friendly restaurant?"

  Not only that, but he had picked the best one in town, too. I'd only been there a few times—always with Patrick since Cyrille hated meals that didn't require butchering an animal of some sort. The food was out of this world. My mouth watered just remembering eating there.

  "You're still a vegetarian, right?" Florian signed.

  "Yes, of course."

  "Great!" He opened the door and led me inside.

  "You really don't mind?" I asked.

  "No. Why would I?"

  "I know how much you love your charcuterie."

  I'd seen him eat cold cuts, ham, and salami like no one else.

  "I also like vegetables, you know? And this place does serve meat, too."

  The hostess—a short brunette with dark olive skin, a white button-down shirt, and black slacks—greeted us, her eyes locking on Florian.

  "Une table pour deux, s'il vous plaît," he said.

  The woman flashed him a grin so wide, she might have dislocated her jaw. I repressed an eye roll. Florian still had an effect on females, apparently. It made me uncomfortable how women always flirted with him. Granted, they flirted with me as well. But I had no interest in them. Florian, on the other hand, loved women. I'd seen the stashes of magazines hidden under his bed back in high school when I'd made the mistake of sneaking a peek. Not a single guy in sight.

  He flashed me a quick glance while the hostess took us to the farthest corner of the restaurant. We barely had time to sit down when a waitress came to replace her and asked if we wanted an apéritif.

  "I'll have a pastis, please," Florian replied, placing his jacket over the back of his seat.

  I tried to repress a shiver but failed. "I'll take a coke. Thanks."

  "What's wrong?" he signed after the waitress left.

  "Nothing."

  "Is it because I'm drinking pastis?"

  I licked my lips. "Definitely not my favorite drink. I hate anise."

  Florian and I had gotten drunk off pastis once when his parents were out of town and we'd sneaked into his dad's cabinet. I was never doing that again. Worst hangover ever.

  He responded with a chuckle, his laugh growing as his eyes sparkled in the dim light.

  "What did I say that's so funny?"

  "You hate anise, huh?"

  I clicked my tongue, my face heating up. "See, that's why I prefer sign language. I hate anise! Not anus." I raised an eyebrow at him. "I definitely love anus."

  His laughter spread and echoed around us so loudly, I checked to ensure no one was listening. Thankfully, the place was still empty except for a straight couple farther away.

  Though it was still sunny outside, the restaurant was dark, the walls made of mahogany wood lit by a few decorative pendant lights. It felt cozy and romantic, definitely not the kind of place where I wanted to hold this conversation.

  "What?" Florian challenged me. "I thought you didn't mind people staring."

  I shook my head without a word. The waitress brought our drinks and some bread, then left when she realized we weren't ready to place our orders yet.

  "I'll make a note not to kiss you after I drink anise. How about that?" He gave a little smirk.

  "Not that we would kiss here, I mean..." I didn't finish my sentence.

  I didn't want to ruin the moment, but I was still reluctant to make out in public. Even after all those years, I remained cautious.

  "May I kiss you after I eat your anus, though?" he teased.

  I swallowed the wrong way and coughed, feeling a flush spread all over my face when the soda's bubbles rose to my nose.

  "Please don't die," Florian signed as I kept coughing. He couldn't keep the hilarity out of his voice even if he tried.

  "Care to keep your voice down?" I gestured quickly before he could continue.

  He never stopped laughing, and the joy on his face was contagious. If he meant to embarrass me, he was doing a great job of it, but I wasn't about to back down.

  "You may kiss me after rimming me, yes," I signed silently. "If you please me with your tongue, I'm not enough of a jerk not to kiss you afterwards." I pursed my lips and added, "But I won't let you eat me out if you're going to talk
about it in public like this. I don't need everyone else to know."

  "What?" he said aloud. "You don't want them to know how much I love anus."

  "Stop!" I could tell my face was on fire, my cheeks burning.

  When he let out one last chuckle, a cloud of gloom overtook me, obscuring my horizon. "That's another thing Cyrille wouldn't do: let me kiss him after rimming him or going down on him."

  Florian rolled his eyes. "What a selfish prick!"

  "He would never take me to a place like this either. With all the burger places growing around the city, we always fought over where to eat."

  Florian creased his beautiful blue eyes, observing me. "Maybe it's time you forgot about that dickhead, don't you think?"

  "I don't care about him anymore," I replied too quickly.

  "Are you sure? You talk about him a lot."

  I looked to the side, embarrassed and unsure what to say. I'd been thinking about Cyrille a lot less recently. I didn't realize I still talked about him so much, though.

  "Was he really the only boyfriend you've ever had? Besides me?" Florian signed with one hand, grabbing mine with the other, intertwining our fingers together. His gesture made me jerk back. I took a quick look around, but no one was watching, so I let myself relax.

  "I won't talk about him again. I promise."

  Florian's smile turned into the saddest thing. "You can talk about him, Enzo. It's just... I want you to be happy, and I feel like he's preventing that from happening. What he did is clearly still bothering you."

  I shrugged.

  "Everything you've said about him paints an awful picture." He ran his thumb over my knuckles. "I'm not sure why you stayed with someone who would treat you that way."

  I slipped my hand away from him. "I could say the same about you and Marlène."

  "You've got a point. But I didn't know she was cheating, or I'd have broken up with her right away."

  "Well, I guess that's the difference between you and me, then," I snapped.

  I didn't need to be judged. If I wanted sermons on my poor taste in men, I could have invited Patrick instead. He was really good at guilt-tripping me.

  Florian's chest rose in a sigh. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so judgmental. I understand Cyrille left some scars behind, and you're still healing. I just..." He paused. "I want you to be happy."

  I nodded, unwilling to admit how deeply the scars ran or how much the wounds still oozed.